


Heart and Soul Busted

by Carrie_oke



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Reader is gender neutral, Romance stuff included but explaining further would be spoilers, don't know whether i should tag it as having a relationship or not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-09 22:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11113743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carrie_oke/pseuds/Carrie_oke
Summary: You and your demon friend Damon have a job getting "loose souls" out of human hosts. Normally this requires up to four weeks of investigation and problem solving, but your latest client wants that thing out of his employee's body ASAP.Pretty soon, Damon gets an idea. But unfortunately, it doesn't solve the problem so much as replace it with another one.(Inspired by Irresistible by drforrester and some anime called The World God Only Knows.)





	1. Prologue Included

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, everyone, I'm taking a risk with this one. The kind of risk where if I regret posting it, this thing could be gone by the end of the day. So if you like what you see so far, please let me know.
> 
> A certain plot element was inspired by Irresistible by drforrester (if you happen to see this, let me know if you want me to officially mark it as inspired), and the whole "loose souls" thing comes from The World God Only Knows.

**Prologue**

Black Hat has had enough of this.

This is the fifth time Flug has delayed production of the power neutralizer, and what’s his excuse? “Sorry, boss. I guess I’m not feeling up to it.”

“ _You’re not feeling up to it,_ ” he repeats, arms crossed.

“I’ve just been feeling kind of...empty lately, you--”

“Well, guess what, Flug? You don’t get to just ‘not feel up to’ doing your job! Not when you work for the greatest evil being of all time, who, may I remind you, can get rid of you in hundreds of horrifying ways!” He grabs Dr. Flug by the T shirt. “Now, you better have this thing finished by this time tomorrow, or…” He tightens his grip and glares at him with the most menacing stare he-- _anyone_ \-- can muster. “...I. WILL. END. YOU.”

“Y-yes, sir! I’ll get on it right away!”

“ _You better._ ” And he drops him on the hard floor.

Honestly, what’s gotten into this company lately? Black Hat Organization hasn’t advertised a new product in a month! Their head developer-- _only_ developer-- is slacking off, sales have begun to plummet, and Demencia is watching TV when _his show is on_!

And it doesn’t help that there’s an infuriating commercial jingle on right now.

“ _When there’s something strange, deep inside your heart...who you gonna call? SOULBUSTERS!_ ”

“Move over, Demencia!” he says. “You know I have the TV Wednesdays at 8!”

“Oookaaaay!” Demencia holds out the remote. “What channel was it again?”

“Give me that!” He grabs the remote, and as he does, the jingle gives way to a demon man, speaking to the camera.

“Are you lost? Weighed down? Have you been feeling empty?”

_“I’ve just been feeling kind of...empty lately.”_

“Have you been so preoccupied with the negative in your life that you’ve struggled to find motivation for even simple tasks? Tasks, like, say, doing a job you previously had no problem doing?”

...Alright, lesser evil being. Go on.

“If you said yes to any of these questions, you could be carrying a loose soul!”

A what?

“That’s right; a loose soul! Souls of demons from thousands of years ago that hide in human hosts, feeding off of their energy. If left untreated, these pesky little spirits can drain everything out of you, leaving you an empty shell of a person.”

He must admit; an empty shell of a person wouldn’t be very good at creating evil devices.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking. ‘But, handsome devil man, do you really think I’m possessed by a demon soul? You must be overreacting!’ And listen, I never said you were possessed by a demon soul; I said you _might_ be. Overreacting is _way_ better than being drained of all life from the inside, trust me. But if you’re still not sure, take a look at these supernatural side effects.”

The shot changes to a blue background with yellow letters on top reading, “Loose soul side effects”. A voice, clearly different from the demon's, narrates. “Possible side effects of being possessed by a soul include: invisibility, shrinkage, lightning fast reading speed, switching bodies with someone, a suppressed part of yourself manifesting as a separate, ghostlike being, other supernatural events…”

He glances back at Dr. Flug. He’s still visible and his normal size, but he does have a bit of pink smoke coming out of his paper bag. Could that be a ghostlike being?

“...and the occasional appearance of oddly colored smoke.”

And here he thought he was going to learn Flug’s secret shame. How disappointing.

The commercial switches back to the demon. “If this sounds like you, supernatural side effects or otherwise, call the _Soulbusters_!If you or someone you know is indeed possessed by a loose soul, we’ll get it out of there! If it turns out it’s not a loose soul, our service is absolutely free! Buuuut if it is a loose soul, it’s $189.99.”

 _Two hundred dollars_ to get a ghost out of his employee? What a ripoff!

But then again, he could just make Flug pay for it...

“So what are you waiting for? Call us at 1-800-555-8011. That’s 1-800-555-8011!”

With a defeated sigh, he reaches toward the phone.

This better be worth it.

 

**Chapter 1**

 

You and Damon have seen plenty of strange stuff on your loose soul capturing endeavors, but somehow, this job still manages to surprise you.

But you suppose it’s understandable. Because through every soul the two of you have captured, through every person you’ve helped, through every strange side effect you’ve had to witness, not once have you been hired by a supervillain.

And honestly, it’s making you nervous. You may be in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, but this house is the most ominous-looking one you’ve had to visit. For one thing, it’s gigantic, hundreds of times bigger than a commercial airliner...if that’s truly an airplane crashed into the roof. (You really hope it’s for decoration.) It sits on top of a dirt hill, without a blade of grass in sight, and a stone staircase winds from the front door to a gate, its curved metal bars topped with sharp points.

You’re currently standing in front of that gate. At the moment, it’s locked.

Which brings you to your first challenge of the day: how do you let the client know you’re here if you can’t get anywhere near their mansion?

“Did you save the number?” you ask Damon, his face pressed right between the “B” and “H” inscribed into the gate.

“Yeah, but what good’ll that do? It’s poor business practice to call a client from your personal cell phone.” He steps back. “I’m sure that Black Hat guy’ll remember it’s time and come get us. But in case he doesn’t, there’s only one option.” He whips his pitchfork out of whatever pocket dimension is inside his utility belt. “Pole vaulting.”

“Wait a minute. I don’t think we should resort to Olympic events just…”

But Damon is already darting across the street, pitchfork in arm.

“...yet.”

You should at least attempt to stop him, shouldn’t--?

“Welcome to the _house of Black Hat_! Or not. Heehee!”

“AH!”

You whip yourself around to find a telescope lens of some kind staring you in the face. One glance to the side reveals that it’s coming from a window inside the mansion, zig zagging down the hill to meet you right at the front gate.

Pretty impressive technology here.

The voice from its speaker continues. “Haha! Got you good, didn’t I? Now, _state your business here_!”

You look behind you to find Damon even farther back than he was before. “Uh...Soulbusters. We’re here to investigate a possible loose soul.”

“Oh, yeah! I know you!” The voice fades. “Hey, Black Hat, the exterminators are here!”

And as the telescope retracts, another voice comes into earshot. “AaaaaaAAAAAH!”

“ _It’s okay, Damon!_ ” you shout, darting out of his way. “ _We’re in!”_

As he approaches the gate, it creaks open, swinging out towards the two of you. “Are you serious?!” he says, skidding to a halt. “I _really_ wanted to do that!”

\------

“So, you’re the Soulcrushers.”

The time has come. Your client is now standing before you, and while you don’t know what your expectations were, he certainly lives up to them. He has the look of a supervillain, with that menacing glare and grin full of razor sharp teeth. And he lives up to his name, too; that top hat on his head certainly is black.

“Soul _busters_ , Mr. Black Hat,” Damon says.

“Whatever.” He stretches his arm--literally, it’s getting longer-- around your back and shuts the front door. “Now, I’m sure you remember why I called you here,” he says. “One of my employees has been completely useless lately, and I need you to fix it.”

Wait, so he’s _not_ the guy with the loose soul? It makes sense; so far, you’ve only seen souls take human hosts, and if Black Hat’s sharp teeth and oddly textured dark gray skin are any indication, he’s definitely not human.

But still, the fact that you don’t have to risk upsetting this man is a huge weight off your shoulders.

“No problem!” Damon says. “If it’s really a loose soul, we’ll happily get rid of it! For a fee, of course.”

“We’ll discuss that _after_ you fix him,” he says with a grimace. “Now, follow me.”

And once you do just that, he takes you through the black and red hallways, past plenty of doors until he reaches a rounded metal one with a circular window. He turns the hatch to open it and waves you in, not bothering to hold it for you as he enters first.

The room you enter is so bright in comparison to the dark-wallpapered hallways that it hurts your eyes. Its white tiled floor and metallic, poster-covered walls surround a room full of machines. Some are large, some are small, some are covered with buttons, some only have a lever or two…

...and you cannot for the life of you tell what _any_ of them do.

Black Hat doesn’t lead you to any of the machines, however, but to a table in the corner of the room. It’s covered with flasks and test tubes and various machine parts, and sitting hunched over it is a person. A person in a lab coat, and a...paper bag over their head.

This must be the guy.

“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Black Hat says. “He’s not even doing anything.”

He’s right. The paper bag-headed man is just sitting there, with his head in his folded arms. Poor guy; he looks so worn out. The loose soul must really be getting to him...if he really does have a loose soul, that is.

“DR. FLUG!” Black Hat shouts. “GET UP!”

Dr. Flug jumps, even more than you did, and shoots up, turning around to reveal a pair of goggles strapped around the paper bag. “Yes, sir?”

Black Hat gestures towards you and Damon. “These two are here to make you useful again.”

“Damarion del Fuego, at your service!” Damon says. “And this is my partner, ______.”

“Hello!”

Black Hat continues. “Apparently, you’ve been slacking so much because you’re possessed. So do whatever they say until that spirit is _out of you_!”

“Not so fast, Mr. Black Hat.” Damon reaches into his belt and pulls out his scanner. “First we have to make sure there _is_ a spirit in there.”

He flicks it on and holds it inches away from Dr. Flug. And the minute he does…

_Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep..._

“Yep,” he says, flicking the scanner off, “that’s a loose soul alright.” He puts it away. “Now, if you’ll allow us up to four weeks, we’ll have that little bugger out--”

“FOUR WEEKS?!”

You take a few steps back, just in case Black Hat plans to attack.

“Is there a problem?” Damon asks.

“Of COURSE there’s a problem! I run a business here! I can’t have my only product manufacturer doing nothing for FOUR WEEKS! Where will I get my revenue?”

Damon seems unfazed. “I understand your concern, but loose souls take time. You can’t just pull them out like a Hellian ear worm; they’re spirits. Spirits that feed off of negative emotion. Only way to get rid of _them_ is to get rid of the bad feelings, and that takes a lot of talking. And problem solving.”

Aiming to get started as soon as possible, you peek at Dr. Flug, searching for any hints of what his problem might be. He’s trembling a bit, and there _is_ the paper bag; maybe he’s suffering from low self confidence?

“Well, can’t you solve problems faster?!” Black Hat barks. “Black Hat Organization hasn’t had any new products since that love potion, and if I wait any longer, _my profits are going to plummet!_ ”

Damon smirks. “ _Love potion_ , you say?”

“Yes!” Dr. Flug says. “Standard formula: whoever drinks it falls in love with the first person they see. One sip, and your arch nemesis will never want to fight you again! Plus, they just might do anything you want.”

Note to self: he seems to perk up when talking about his inventions. Might have some use in getting him comfortable.

Damon’s grinning even wider now. “Really?” he says. “Interesting. Tell me, would there happen to be any of this stuff lying around here?”

“I usually keep liquids in the storage bin over in the next room.” He thumbs toward a nearby door. “Why?”

“No reason.” He chuckles to himself. “Be right back.”

And he zips through that very door.

“Wait!” you call after him. “What are you doing?”

“Just runnin’ an errand. Don’t mind me!” And with that, he shuts the door behind him.

You’re frozen in place for a few moments as both Black Hat and Dr. Flug stare at you. “Excuse me for a moment,” you manage to say. “I need to make sure he didn’t steal anything.”

\------

The good news is he _didn’t_ steal anything. You checked the thing most likely to be a storage bin, and inside was a flask labeled “love potion” full of magenta liquid. So as far as you can tell, he didn’t steal it.

But even so, he looked like he was up to something. What was it?

You guess you’re about to find out, because here he comes, through the door you first came in. And he’s carrying a glass of what looks like soda.

“I asked this blue bear what you liked to drink, and he wasn’t sure, so I just got the first thing with ‘Dr.’ in it.” He walks over to Flug and holds out the glass. “Here. Maybe you’ll feel better if you drink something. And while you’re doing that, why don’t you face...” He grabs him by the shoulders and turns him toward you. “...this way?”

“Uh...okay.” He carefully tucks the straw underneath his bag and (presumably) starts drinking.

“Now, Mr. Black Hat,” Damon says, “as I said earlier, loose souls feed off of negative emotion, so the way to get rid of them is to get rid of the negative emotion. Quickest way to do that? A sudden burst of positive emotion! Like, I dunno…” He grins. “...falling in love at first sight?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Wait, did you…?”

But you thought he didn’t steal the potion...not _all_ of it, anyway.

And just like that, the pieces come together.

“But...that’s artificial love. I don’t think that--”

Before you can say “counts,” Dr. Flug opens his eyes, and of course, they’re pointed right at you. His formerly stiff posture relaxes as his gaze stays locked on its target, and he lets out a very visible sigh.

No, wait...that’s not a breath. That’s some kind of...pink puff of smoke seeping out of his paper bag. And his...entire body.

The loose soul.

“Whoa!” you say. “That _worked_?”

“Heck yeah, it did!”

You turn to face Damon, now standing beside you with one of his giant, soul-capturing jars in his arms.

And in seconds, the soul comes bursting out of Flug’s body with a _whoosh_! It blows up like a balloon, filling nearly the entire room with its presence, and as it does, the glass of soda crashes to the ground. You, Black Hat, and Flug take cover as the soul brushes past you, sending a chill down your spine. Damon, however, charges right into it, catching it by what you believe is its tail, and its gigantic presence shrinks down to the size of the considerably less gigantic jar.

Damon caps it off with a triumphant grin. “Soul _busted!_ ”

And the jar shrinks down to its handheld size so he can put it in his belt. “Well,” he says, walking over to the rest of you. “I believe our work here is done.” He holds out his hands. “Now, about that fee…”

“Wait a minute, Damon,” you say. “Don’t you think that--?”

“Yes, about that,” Black Hat says, as if he didn’t hear you, “it’s a bit _expensive_ , isn’t it?”

“Hey, catching loose souls ain’t easy!”

Black Hat crosses his arms. “You fed him a love potion and stuck a jar on some cotton candy.”

“You ever tried to use a Loose Soul Containment Device?” he says. “It took me way too many tries to get that grow/shrink thing working, let me tell ya.”

“I don’t care about how difficult that jar is. _No one_ rips off Black Hat!” He stares Damon directly in the face, somehow sharpening his teeth even more. “However…” He steps back. “I admire your selfish intentions, so I’ll let you rip off Flug.”

“Works for me,” Damon says, holding out his hand toward Dr. Flug. “That’ll be $189.99.”

But Dr. Flug doesn’t say anything. He seems...distracted by something.

By you.

Okay, you tell yourself, calm down. Maybe he’s just confused. After all, loose soul victims _do_ tend to forget everything that led to the soul’s removal. He must have forgotten who you are and why you’re here; who’s to say he didn’t forget he was supposed to be “in love” with you, too?

“Hello? Earth to baghead!” Damon waves his hand in front of Flug’s covered face. “Can ya hear me?”

“W-what?” He looks over to Damon “Oh, yeah, here you go.” He grabs his wallet from out of his pocket and removes a wad of bills. “Wait, why am I paying you again?”

“ _Just give him the cash!_ ”

“Ah! Yes, boss!” And he hands the bills over.

“Now,” Black Hat says, turning to you and Damon, “we’re done here, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are.”

“Good.” He lowers the rim of his hat. “ _Then get out of here._ ”

\------

A day has passed since that little...incident. You and Damon are sitting in your office, waiting for calls. Not a single person has reported a loose soul so far, which could very well mean there aren’t as many loose souls out there.

But you just can’t think about that right now. You’re too preoccupied with what happened yesterday.

Is that Dr. Flug guy going to be alright? You never got concrete evidence he still had feelings for you--because really, how do you ask someone if they like you without implying _you_ like _them_?-- but you can’t shake the possibility. Yes, he could have been confused, but confused people usually look in a bunch of different directions, or at the wall, right? Not directly at one person.

And it wasn’t just that. Come to think of it, he looked at you right after he handed Damon the cash, too. He lifted his hand, like he was about to say something. And after that, when you were hurrying out of there…

...you heard him say “Wait! Come back!”

But you don’t know. Maybe you’d just dropped something. 

Something you haven’t realized is missing yet.

_Ring ring, ring ring! Ring ring, ring ring!_

“Finally!” Damon picks up the phone. “Soulbusters for loose soul removal! What can I do for ya?”

“ _I’ll tell you what you can do from me, you blasted con artist!_ ”

Whoa. That was so loud, even you could hear it. And you’re all the way across the room.

Black Hat’s voice continues. “Thanks to your little stunt, Flug is now worse than ever before! He can’t do anything except mope about your business partner! Now, get back over here and _fix this_ , or you don’t want to know what I’ll do!”

“Mope about your business partner”?

But... _you’re_ his business partner.

“Easy there, Mr. Black Hat.” How Damon can remain so calm in the face of a terrifying and apparently powerful supervillain is beyond you. “I can handle this. All I need you to do is get that doctor on the phone.”

“Very well,” Black Hat says. “Flug, get over here!”

You inch closer to where Damon is; you have to hear what becomes of this conversation.

Soon, Flug is on the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey there, Doc. Damarion del Fuego from Soulbusters speaking,” Damon says. “Remember yesterday? You gave me money?”

“Yesterday?” he repeats. “You mean...you were here with... _them_? Your partner, or whoever they were?”

Oh, no. Something about the way he said “them” _really_ doesn’t sit well with you.

“______? Yeah, they were with me. How come?”

“So _that’s_ their name! ______. That’s really...” He clears his throat. “Anyway, uh, no reason. I-I just wanted to know if they’re doing okay, is all. They seemed a little...worried about something.”

“Well, I’m sorry to tell you this…” Damon leans back in his chair. “...but they’re dead.”

_What?_

“WHAT?!”

“Sad but true.” Damon shrugs. “They got in a nasty skiing accident just last night. It was terrible. Gruesome. They were so young…” He puts a tremble in his voice, pretending to be crying, but he immediately recovers. “Anyway, if you had any, say, budding romantic feelings for them, I suggest you get over them and go back to doing your--”

“NO!” he shouts, with undoubtedly real emotion. “They...they can’t be! You’re lying, right? _Please tell me you’re lying!_ ”

“He’s lying.”

“‘Fraid not!” He turns away from you. “I know it’s hard, but we can all learn from their tragedy. To appreciate what we have, and...watch out for trees.”

Alright, that’s enough. “Quit telling people I’m dead!” You hold out your hand. “I’m pretty sure you’re only making him feel worse.”

He looks down at the phone, hesitates for a bit, then sighs. “Fine,” he says, and he hands you the phone.

“Soulbusters loose soul removal! ______ speaking.”

“_...______?” He sniffs. Poor guy. “You mean...you’re…?”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I’m not dead. There was no skiing accident. I didn’t even go skiing last night. Or...ever.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Yep. It’s official. That love potion is still in effect. “But wait, if you’re okay, why would Damarion tell me you died?”

“Don’t worry. He had good...uh, he had intentions.”

Alright. Now that you know for sure the potion’s in his system, how do you get it out? If there’s anyone who would know, it’s…

...him.

Because he made it.

Oh, boy.

“So, Dr….Flug, was it?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure! Anything!”

“Yesterday you said something about a love potion you made for your company. Remember that?”

“Well, I...don’t remember telling you about it, but I remember the potion! Why?”

“I was just wondering. Is there any way to reverse its effects?”

“You mean, an antidote?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“No. I, uh, never thought about that.”

Darn it. “Well, if you don’t mind suggestions, I think it would be a good idea to make one. I mean...what if the wrong person drinks it? Or whoever does drink it looks at the wrong person first? That could be _disastrous_.”

“Yeah...you’re right. It could be.” Oh, little does he know… “I’ll have to get working on that as soon as I can!”

“Great!”

Now there’s just one problem left: how do you get him to drink it when he’s done? Tell him he should taste test it to make sure it’s safe? Suggest he make it taste really good? Get someone else on the line and convince _them_ to trick him into drinking it? Or…?

You know what? You should just tell him the truth. “There’s one more thing I should mention,” you say. “Be sure to drink that antidote once it’s finished, okay?”

“But...shouldn’t I test it on an animal first?”

“I’m not talking about testing. The thing is...you got tricked into drinking some of the potion yesterday.”

For a moment, there’s silence. “What?”

“It’s true. I know you may not remember because of the loose soul thing, but yesterday, Damon snuck a few drops into your soda, and then you drank the soda, and...you know the rest.”

“No,” he says. “I get what you’re saying, but...that’s impossible! I...I couldn’t have drunk any love potions because _I’m not in love with you!_ ”


	3. Chapter 3

No, it _can’t_ be true! How can be in love with someone he just met? He knows nothing about them; heck, until five minutes ago, he didn’t even know their _name_!

So he found them fascinating yesterday. So he was a little disappointed to learn he may never see them again. So the news of their supposed death was the single most devastating thing he’d ever heard. That doesn’t mean anything!

“No need to deny it. It’s not your fault.”

That _voice_. Just the sound of it is enough to make his heart beat faster than when one of his inventions breaks in front of Black Hat.

“Y-yeah, but... _me_? Like you? That’s...” Wait, that came out wrong. “I-I mean,we just met!”

“Exactly,” they say. “There’s no way you could _really_ like me when you barely know me. The only way it makes sense is if there’s some kind of potion involved!”

But he _doesn’t_ like them. Not that way! They just seem nice, and their voice is just...really pleasing to the ears!

Though, then again...a potion isn’t _entirely_ out of the question. For one thing, there was a pile of broken glass he had to clean up after they left, and...didn't they say the potion was mixed with soda? Now that he thinks of it, it _was_ sitting in a puddle of brown, sticky liquid. And while he doesn't remember drinking it...he doesn't remember _not_ drinking it, either. Yesterday morning was all a blur; he can’t remember anything that happened before he...saw them.

Oh, what a moment that was. The two of them were right by the lab door, having run away from...something. There they were, right next to him, a little short of breath from whatever had just happened. Their eyes, their beautiful, mesmerizing eyes, were locked on what was going on in front of them, but he couldn't bear to look away from them for a second. He had no idea who they were, where they came from, or why they were here, but what he did know...was that they were _amazing_.

He knew, somewhere in the back of his head, that his life wasn't a great one. That he was still stuck in the mansion, churning out device after device for the rest of eternity. That soon after this, Black Hat would probably be yelling at him, no, _threatening_ him again. But in the moment...none of that mattered.

Nothing at _all_ mattered. For that wonderful thirty seconds when all he could see was an even more wonderful person, he forgot all about his terrifying boss and his nightmare of a job. It was like it didn’t exist! Because somehow, just by standing there, ______ had made it all disappear.

Just by standing there...they made him feel better than he’d felt in a really long time.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“YES?!” he says, snapping out of his thoughts. “Oh, uh, yeah! I’m here.”

“Okay, good.”

You know what? Maybe he _does_ like them.

A little.

\----------

“So,” you say, “are you good? Feel better now?”

“ _Much_ better,” he says, considerably less panicked.

“Great. And you understand what you need to do? With the antidote?”

“Drink it when I’m done making it?”

“You got it!” Wow. This was easier than you thought it’d be! “So, I guess we’re done here. Thanks for understanding, and good luck with--”  
  
“ _You’re leaving?!_ ”

“Well...yeah.” You said what you wanted to say, and he understands, which means this conversation is--

_Ohhhhh._

“It’s okay, Dr. Flug,” you assure him. “I’m not leaving forever.”

It feels odd comforting someone you just met like this; just what about you he could miss, you have no idea. But hey, potions do strange things. And besides, you have to talk to him again at least once, anyway, to make sure he…

...Wait.

“It’d probably be a good idea to have some means of contact, wouldn’t it?”

He hesitates. “You mean you’ll...give me your number?”

“If it’s okay with you.” You were planning to give him your email address, but phone number works, too. “I know it’s poor business practice to call a client from your personal cell phone, but…”  
  
“NO! It’s fine! I’d love-- I mean, it would be a good way for us to...keep in touch.”

“Of course! And after this is all over, you can delete my contact and pretend none of this ever happened.”

“Right. None of it...ever happened.”

“Exactly! So, ready for the number?”

For such a disastrous situation, this is going pretty well. Dr. Flug is going to make the antidote, and, as long as he remembers what you said, he’s going to drink it afterward. You’re impressed; part of you expected him not to believe you about the whole potion thing.

You can't believe _this_ , yourself. Just an hour ago, you were so worried about how this would turn out, and what would become of the poor man.

But now, it looks like things are going to be okay.

\------

Things might not be as okay as you thought.

For one thing, the antidote’s going to have to be delayed. According to the text Flug sent you, Black Hat wants him to finish up this “power neutralizer” first. Which is fine with you; he, just like you, has a job to do, and with a boss as demanding as his seems to be, it must be hard to squeeze in side projects. Besides, he says he’ll start the antidote as soon as he can, so you don’t have anything to worry about there.

So that text isn’t the problem.

It’s the _twenty-seven other ones_.

In the three and a half hours since you hung up, he’s texted you a total of twenty-eight times. That’s an average of…wait, you need to open the calculator app…

...one text every 7.5 minutes.

“Whoa,” Damon says, peeking over your shoulder. “I think the bag head guy likes you.”

“Really?” You go back to the messenger app. “I had no idea.”

You can't help but worry about this; how much work could he have gotten done if he was texting you so much? But before you give him a gentle reminder of what he's supposed to be doing, you should see what he had so much to say to you about. There’s that first text, and then…

“So, how are you? I never got the chance to ask.”

There’s a time stamp on the next one, for about 40 minutes after the call ended. So maybe he got _something_ done. “Guess you’re still at work, huh?” the text says. “Sorry to bother you.”

It's okay, Dr. Flug. Maybe you were “at work,” but you weren't really “working.” Even if you didn't keep your phone on silent during business hours, the text wouldn't have been much of a bother. Your only concern is him, and why he was texting you in _such large quantities_.

Anyway, the rest of the messages. Most of them, you find, are updates with what’s going on with him: his progress on the blueprint (which is good, because now you know he started something), someone named Demencia playing electric guitar and making it hard to concentrate on said blueprint, someone named 5.0.5 coming to visit…

The last one, from within the last hour, is “Demencia’s gone. Finally, peace and quiet!”

Finally, it's time to respond. “Great! So, have you made any progress?”

You flip your phone off of silent and put it back in your--

_DING!_

Whoa, already?

_DING!_

Slow down, Doctor! You need to look at the first--

_DING!_

\--text.

Damon chuckles. “There he goes!” He starts toward the office door. “I’ll leave you to deal with your boyfriend.”

“Uh...yeah,” you say, too focused on your phone. “See you tomorrow, Damon.”

And once he's out, you unlock your phone to reveal, well...this.

“You’re back!”

“How arwewe gardieughmljpvoungcijle”

Um...what just happened?

“Ngvj;gkbanf”

Right when you're about to send “Are you okay?” another message appears.

“hEY CUtie,,,”

\----------

“Demencia, _give me back my phone_!”

“Aw, come on! I just wanna say hi to your crush!”

Demencia holds Dr. Flug’s phone as high as she can reach, tapping away at the keyboard. What she’s typing, he has no idea…but whatever it is, it can’t be good.

“ _They’re not my crush!_ ”

...Okay, they are, but there’s no way he’s letting her know that.

“Oh, yeah?” She jumps out of the way as he swipes at the phone. “Then how come you texted them so many times?”

“I just...you know...” Why can't he think of any excuses? “...that’s none of your business! Now, _give that back_!”

“Never!” She dodges him once again, darting to the other side of the lab.

But as he gives chase, he notices someone _else's_ presence. A big, blue someone. 5.0.5 has come back from wherever he wandered off to...and now he’s going through-- NOT THE DESK DRAWERS!

“ _5.0.5,_ _don’t touch that!_ ”

But it’s too late. 5.0.5 has already opened the drawer, and right in his paws is... _that_.

Demencia looks up from the phone. “Ooh, whatcha got there?” And she’s heading over here, too. Of _course_ she is!

“Wait, Demencia--”

“I GOTTA see this!”

“No, Demencia, it...it’s nothing! Just the blueprint for the power neutralizer!”

“ _This_ doesn’t look like a power neutralizer.”

Great. Now _both_ of them are looking!

“Put that back!”

“Hey, is that them?” She snickers. “You even got 'em all labeled! That's hilarious!” She holds up his phone...pointing it straight at the blueprint. “I bet they’d _love_ it.”

“DON’T YOU DARE!”

He reaches out and finally gets a grip on his phone, but Demencia’s not letting go. The two play tug of war, pulling one way, then the other, until 5.0.5 grabs on, too.

That’s good. Maybe with a bear’s help, he’ll be able to get it back. But he seems a bit...confused.

“No, 5.0.5, pull this way!”

“No, _this_ way!”

As they scuffle, pulling the phone and each other in every direction imaginable, the blueprint gets caught in the fight, too, but everything's such a whirlwind that he can't follow where it goes.

“DEMENCIA--”

“What? They need…”

“NO!”

“...to know…”

“NOOO!”

“...your feeli--”

“ _WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?_ ”

Flug and 5.0.5 jump, and Demencia stops short, sending the phone flying right into the hard, metal wall.

The blueprint finally settles down, slowly descending from the ceiling...until it lands right on top of Black Hat's black hat.

“I...I can explain, sir.”

\----------

After the texts suddenly changed their typing style, you decided it was time to put the phone away and head on home. You’ll come back to it later, you figured, and by the time you open the phone again, you'll probably have some kind of explanation.

Right now is just about the time. Once you step through your apartment door and click it shut behind you, the first thing you do is take a seat on your couch and whip out your phone. Let's see...there;s a few more texts here, but most of them are just keyboard mashing again. Only the first one is coherent: "i LOev U".

Still no explanation, you see. Maybe you should ask for one. But just as you're about to ask just what the heck is going on, the phone erupts with the sound of your ringtone.

The screen goes dark, displaying the name...that’s funny. You don’t remember putting Black Hat Organization into your contacts.

But considering who you were talking to today, it must be important. You better pick it up.

“Hello?”

“______, is it?” 

 Hoo boy. You don't even have to _ask_ who that is.

“Yes, it is,” you reply.

“It's clear you have more control over my own employee than I do,” Black Hat says. “Be here tomorrow at 9 AM sharp. _You're going to fix this._ ”


	4. Chapter 4

Well. here you are. In the house of Black Hat once again, only this time, you’re all alone. It was annoying having to suddenly skip work, but thankfully, Damon understood. He was planning on blowing it off halfway through to hang out with his demon friends, anyway.

So, as nervous as you are, especially considering you’re not sure how Black Hat expects you to “fix this,” you’re very glad he called you here. This way, the little potion problem is going to be solved once and for all, as soon as possible. 

Of course, you’re not quite sure how long “as soon as possible” is, so you came prepared with a messenger bag full of electronics. And some snacks. Gotta have snacks.

Anyway, now that the door’s closed behind you, you need to listen to Black Hat. For your own safety.

“You’re here on time,” he says. “Very smart of you.”

You just nod, feeling it would be inappropriate to do otherwise.

“Now, you’ve spoken to Flug about an antidote for the love potion?”

You hesitate, in case he still has more to say. “Yes.”

“What I want you to do is go to Flug’s laboratory and _make sure he finishes that antidote_. Got it?”

“Yes, I do.”  
  
“Good.” He points a razor-sharp claw of a finger to the right. “ _Get in there_.”

\----------

They’re coming. He can’t believe it; they’re _coming_!

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, he’s finally going to see them in person! And for the first time ever, he’ll get to talk to them face to beautiful face! It’s the first time they’re having a real in person interaction, and he knows what that means:

_Everything’s got to be perfect._

It’s almost 9; they’re going to be here any minute now! So is there anything he still needs to do? Okay, the floor is clean, the desk is organized, and all those Medusa head stains have been removed from the Medusa device.

Now, how about his own appearance? Is his bag on straight? Is his collar down? Are there any fingerprints on his goggles? _How can he know?_

Oh, wait. There’s a reflection in the window to the storage room. _He’s saved._

And he looks okay, too! At least, he thinks so. He doesn’t know what their preferences are.

So all that’s left to do is wait and figure out what he’s going to say to them first. Maybe “Hi, glad you could come!” or “Nice to finally meet you!” But that second one might be too much of a stretch. They _have_ met before, and technically, it was only two days ago.

But...what he says first doesn’t matter! What does matter is afterwards, when he talks to them about their interests. Like…

...the things. That interest them.

That’s right. He still knows absolutely nothing about them.

Well...that just means he’ll have to change that, then. Now’s his chance to learn _as much about them as possible_.

\----------

It’s absolutely vital you reveal _as little about yourself as possible_.

You can’t give this guy any reason to fall for you harder than he already has. You can’t do that to him! He deserves to keep what little of a clear head he still has. (Besides, he needs it to work on the antidote.)

So whatever you do, you can’t fan the flames. You’re going to do the opposite of everything catching loose souls with Damon has taught you about social interaction: you’ll stay quiet, show no interest in him whatsoever, and if he asks questions, you’re going to answer with the bare minimum of words.

Turning the aloofness up to eleven is going to come off as rude. You’re aware of that. But your only other option is to be straight up mean to him, and he deserves that even less than the potion.

Alright. Here goes. The lab is right behind this door. Straight face, you tell yourself. You have no emotions about this encounter whatsoever. The most interesting thing in this whole house is your bag of electronics.

And now...you nonchalantly knock on the door.

“AAAGH!” Oops. Didn't mean to scare him. “Coming!”

And in seconds, the door opens from the other side. Dr. Flug is standing there, just as you remember him...except, wasn’t he wearing a T shirt last time? You definitely don’t remember those dress pants...or shoes.

“Am I underdressed?” you ask.

“Wha…?” He violently shakes his head. “It’s fine! You’re fine! You look…” He clears his throat. “Anyway, good to meet you in person!”

You nod. “Likewise.”

“Y-yeah.” He gulps. “So...why don’t you come in?”

“Sure.” You step in, and he closes the door behind you.

Once again, you come face to face with machines of all shapes and sizes. Seriously, what could any of them _do_? They’re all so...different from anything you’ve seen before that you just can’t tell. Look at that large, imposing capsule thing for example; the part in front of it is obviously some kind of computer, but what about the rest of it? It’s got giant pipes on the side, and these...cylindrical doohickeys on top...what does it all mean? Dr. Flug here could tell you, but…

...no. You can’t show any interest in him, remember? That includes interest in what he does.

When the two of you reach the lab table, you summon the most ‘bored’ voice you can manage. “Okay, Dr. Flug. As you know, I’m here under direct orders from your boss. All you have to do is finish the antidote to the love potion, then drink it, and then I can go home. You got it?”

“Yeah. Finish the antidote, and then...you can go home. And we’ll pretend…” He looks down at the floor. “...none of this ever happened.”

“Exactly. Now, uh…” You look around. “Do you have a second chair?”

His head shoots up. “Of course! Wait right here!”

He hurries into the storage room, and just a few moments later, he pops right back out, lifting a cushioned chair through the door in front of him. Ooh, and it’s a swivel chair! You love those!

He sets it down in front of you. “Here you go!”

“Thanks.” You sit down and take off your bag. Yes, the chair swivels, alright. You prepare to kick off and send yourself on a 360 degree rotation…

...until you realize that might count as revealing something about yourself. And it’s just not worth the risk.

You’ll have to spin when he leaves the room again.

But right now, you opt to just scoot to the left end of the lab table, as far away as possible from where Flug will be be sitting.

“Do you need anything else? A drink? A snack? Something else?”

“Nah, I’m good.” You unzip your messenger bag’s main compartment. “I have snacks.”

“Okay.” He sits down. “Is the chair alright? Comfortable enough?”

“Yep.” You reach into your bag and pull out your DS. “You can get started.”

“Oh. Um…” He sighs. “...okay.”

\---------

They’re not talking to him. _Why aren’t they talking to him?_

It’s not like he’s asking them out or anything; he just wants to get to know them better! But every time he's tried to make conversation, even by asking a simple question, he’s always met the same results:

“So, uh, what are you playing?”

“A game.”

“That’s nice. What kind of game?”

“A video game.”

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t come up with anything that led to more than a three word answer. Nothing could even make them look up from whatever it was they were doing. Even when he tried to glance over their shoulder to _see_ what they were playing, or watching, or listening to, they just held their device close to their face so he couldn’t see.

Okay, looking on might have been a little invasive. But what else was he supposed to do? The only time _they_ asked _him_ anything was when they wanted to know the wifi password!

Maybe he can ask about...their job? What they were doing while they were at his house two days ago? Yeah, that’s something!

“Hey, ______?” he asks.

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering. Um, what got you into...whatever it is you do? With Damarion?”

“My job?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Long story.”

He waits for them to elaborate, but, of course, they don’t. “It can’t be _that_ long. I...I’d love to hear it.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I…!” Okay, that’s it. He can’t take it anymore.  “______, what’s wrong? Why don’t you want to talk to me?”

“Don’t you have a job to do?”

Well. At least it was longer than three words. “Yeah, but…” He looks down at the sheet of chemical formulas on his desk. “...I’ve been doing it.”

For the first time since they came in, they look up from their device...only to look right back down. “So you have.”

What is _with_ them today? What does he have to say to get them to open up?

Now that he thinks of it, he should probably follow every relationship book he’s ever read, and...be honest.

“Listen, ______,” he says, “I was _really_ looking forward to seeing you today. I know it’s for work and everything, but...I want to get to know you. You seem like an amaz-- a really nice person, and...if it’s okay...I want to know more about you! Something besides your face and name! Anything! How am I supposed to tell you I love you when--”   
  
AH! Not THAT honest!

They look up at him and take off their headphones.

“Wait! Forget that last part! I didn’t mean-- I--”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Flug.” Is it just him, or do they look almost...sad? “I hate to do this to you. I really do. But I’ve thought about it, and...it’s for the best.” They sigh. “The less you know about me, the better.”

And they slip their headphones back on and look back down at their phone.

Oh. So...something _is_ wrong after all?

He wants to ask what it is, but something tells him they don’t want to talk about it. So if that’s the case, all he can do is let him know he’s there for them.

Maybe he can...do something nice for them.

Of course, that’s easier said than done when you know nothing about someone. But it’s not impossible. They must have let slip a few hints of what they might like. Let’s see...they seem to like video games. But they won’t tell him what kind; that’s the problem!

How about he...no, not that. Come on, ______, give him something to work with!

He looks over to where they are. They’re currently...looking wonderful, as always. Just how do they do it? Even the way they’re fiddling with their headphone jack is just…

Come on, Flug, stay focused. Think of something nice! Something...like...

“Ugh, this thing’s so _annoying_ ,” they mutter to themselves. “Note to self: buy new headphones.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! At this point, it's very unlikely I'm going to delete this, but I admit, I'm still unsure. So don't forget to let me know if you like what you see so far! Even just a kudos would be very much appreciated. Thank you!

It’s almost the end of the work day, and you’re really starting to worry about him.

For one thing, you don’t think he’s eaten anything since this morning. You tried to check on him around lunchtime, but he insisted he was fine and practically _begged_ you to just wait outside.

Yes, he kicked you out. After it had been an hour or two, he said that maybe he’d work best without you in the room, and you couldn’t disagree with him. After all, he _did_ keep staring at you and asking you questions. Maybe it would be less distracting if you left.

Either way, here you are now. In the mansion living room, along with a couple new acquaintances. As it turns out, the voice that came out of the telescope-looking thing both times you came belonged to a woman named Demencia. She’s quite an...interesting character, with her lizard hood, and her striped red stocking on only one leg, and her ridiculously long neon green ponytail. But she’s a lot of fun to talk to!

And then there’s 5.0.5, the last sort of creature you’d expect in a self-proclaimed “villa of villainy”. He’s none other than a big cyan teddy bear with a flower growing out of his head, and boy, is he _adorable_. The first thing he did when you said hi to him was open his fuzzy bear arms for a hug. How cute is that?

The three of you are sitting on a cluster of couches as Flug is still...not here. You consider asking Demencia or 5.0.5 to go check on him again, but 5.0.5 just went into the lab half an hour ago. If his head nod was any indication, yes, Flug is still working. That’s all that matters.

Apart from his physical health, that is. You can’t help but be concerned about the eating thing. “Maybe I should bring him a snack or something,” you say, looking in the direction of the lab.

“Ah, he’ll be fine,” Demencia says. “He’s been through worse than skipping _one meal_ , trust me.” She grins. “Hey, why _are_ you so worried about him, anyway? Do you _love_ him?”

“Of course not,” you say, keeping your voice calm so she can’t accuse you of being in denial. “It’s just...well, he’s got a huge crush on me against his will. I feel bad for the guy.”

“Are you _sure_?” she asks. “We could go on a double date! You and the dork, and me and Black Hat!”

5.0.5 tilts his head.

“Sorry, no bears allowed!” she says. “We’ll be doing villain stuff, anyway. You wouldn’t be interested.”

5.0.5 lets out a whimper.

“Aw, don’t be sad, 5.0.5. I’d hang out with you afterwards...if we were actually doing this.”

He lifts his head up and wags his little tail.

“But now I’m curious.” You turn to Demencia. “What happens on a villain date?”

“I mean, there’s no one way to do a villain date. It depends on the villain! Evil CEOs go golfing, evil fish people go swimming, those weird clown guys go to the circus...you know what I mean. But me? I like to _break stuff_.”

“Break stuff?”

“ _Lots_ of stuff.” She folds her arms on the coffee table. “Just picture it: your date carries you in his well-toned arms as you stand over the trail of destruction left by your love. You gaze at the fireworks made by blowing up some hero’s headquarters, and then...you stare into each other's eyes. He smiles the most attractively malicious smile ever, and he says your name. Like…”

“______!”

“No, not like _that_.”

“______!”

Dr. Flug comes running into the room, his hands behind his back. “______!” he says one more time, struggling to catch his breath. “It’s done!”

“Oh, good!” You check your phone. “And it’s not even 5 yet.” You stand up and step over to where Flug is.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, ______. It’s just...these things take time.”

“No, I get it. Don’t worry.”

That was actually pretty fast, for figuring out a mixture of chemicals that would cancel out a love potion. You have to admit, he’s good at what he does.

But mostly, you’re just glad that after days of worrying and hours of waiting, the antidote is finally done, and once he drinks the thing, you can go home. Back to your old life, where you didn’t have to worry about angry villains, or missing work, or someone having forced feelings for you. It’ll be _all over_.

“So,” you say, “don’t you have to--?”

“Oh! Right!” He whips his hands around to his front, where you can plainly see the headphones that--

...the _headphones_?!

“Um…”

“You said you needed new ones, so I, uh, thought I’d make you a present.” He averts his eyes as he hands them to you.

“Oh.” You lift the headphones up to your face. “You made these.”

“Yeah. I...I didn’t know what color you’d like, so I just made them black. Hope you don’t mind.”

Oh, the color is _definitely_ not the issue here.

“So, this is what you were doing all day?” You force a smile. “Oh, Dr. Flug, you didn’t have to. You REALLY didn’t have to!”

“No, it’s okay, I _wanted_ to!”

You can’t believe this guy. “Yes, but _aren’t you forgetting something_?”

“Oh, right!” He reaches into one of his lab coat pockets and pulls out a black wire. “Forgot the USB cable!”

“ _No, I mean_...the what?”

“The USB cable!” He hands it to you. “You can upload songs directly onto it, so you don’t need any extra devices or even wires to listen to music. The jack wire’s detachable, too.”

“Really?” You tug on the wire connected to the headphones, and sure enough, it pops out. “That’s pretty cool. But how do you do that? Is there, like, a special app that--” You shake your head. “Never mind! _What happened to the antidote?_ ”

“I’ll get to it,” he says. “I just...wanted to do something nice for you first, is all.”

“No, you don’t understand! You needed to finish that…” You sigh. “This is all my fault. I should have stayed with you. I should have known this was going to happen. How did I not? I…”

It is then that Dr. Flug looks at you with the saddest expression that could possibly show through a paper bag and goggles. “You don’t...like them?”

Oh, geez. Why must he do this to you? It’s hard enough being firm with him without your compassion butting in! Come on, ______. It’s not like he _actually_ loves you; he just _thinks_ he does!

But even so, he made these for you with all the artificial love in his chemically infused heart. Are you really going to shoot him down for it?

And also...is he going to cry?

“No! I love them!” You put the headphones on, and _wow, these are comfortable_. “They’re the best headphones I’ve ever had! By a lot!”

 He sniffs. “Really?”

“Of course!” You take them off. “It’s just that...you didn’t have to go through so much trouble for me. I mean, your one job was to finish the antidote, and if Black Hat finds out you’ve been slacking, both of us will get in--”

 “ _Have you finished the antidote yet?_ ”

 “--trouble.”

Somehow, Black Hat has snuck up behind the two of you, and now you stand in his imposing shadow. There he is, hands in his pockets, impatiently tapping his foot. Is it just you, or is he even taller than usual?

Demencia waves at Black Hat, while 5.0.5 hides in the corner.

Flug, meanwhile, starts shaking. “N-not exactly, sir.”

“Then what are you _doing_ out here?” He turns to you. “Weren’t _you_ supposed to be keeping an eye on him?”

 You take a deep breath. “Yes, but--”

“NO!”

Flug jumps out in front of you, arms out. “ _I won’t let you touch them!_ ”

“Flug,” Black Hat says, “what’s the meaning of this?”

“What happened was all my fault. I’m the one who wanted to make them a new pair of headphones instead of working on the antidote. They couldn’t have known what I was doing; I pushed them out! So please…” He drops to his knees. “...let me take all the responsibility.”

“ _So you haven’t even been working on it?!_ ” Black Hat, eyes grown red and bloodshot, stares Flug directly in the face. “What’s this about headphones?”

“It was all me, sir!” Flug says. “______ seemed sad, and I wanted to do something for them, a-and I heard them say they needed new headphones, so I did what I could! I’m sorry, boss! I should have waited until after I made the antidote.”

Oh, boy. Here it comes. Black Hat looks like he's about to explode, and there's no telling what he'll do next. You wince, expecting him to lash out in anger…

...but instead, he just returns his eyes to normal, stands back up, and...smiles. “It’s alright, Flug. I understand.”

“You...you do?”

He _does_?

“Of course,” he says. “You just wanted to make your love happy, didn’t you? You wanted to see them smile, because it makes you smile, too. Right?”

Those words sound very wrong in Black Hat’s voice, and frankly, you’re confused.

Flug stands up. “Y-yeah. Exactly!”

“Uh, Black Hat, are you okay?” Demencia asks.

“Perfectly fine, my dear Demencia. Who am I to deny my employees the joys of...feelings?”

“Okay, there’s _gotta_ besomething wrong with you.”

“ _Quiet_!” He turns to Flug. “Now, don’t you worry about what you did today, Dr. Flug. There’s no harm done.”

“Really?” Flug says. “Thank you, sir!”

“In fact,” Black Hat continues, “you don’t need to worry about that silly old antidote at all. You can take all the time you need building whatever you want.”

“Anything?”

“ _Anything._ ”

“For as much time as I need?”

“As much as you need.”

“Do you...really mean--”

“ _YES, I MEAN IT!_ ” He takes a deep breath and turns around. “I’ll be off, then.”  
  
“I...wow, thank--”

“Yes, yes, you’re so very grateful.” And he starts his way out of the room. But just as he reaches the door, he turns around, grinning even wider than usual. “And by the way,” he says, “when your friend first came in the mansion this morning, I heard them mention something about a power neutralizer.”


	6. Chapter 6

You’re starting to wish Black Hat had just yelled at you.

Because if he hadn’t thought of a way to use Flug’s unfortunate state to his advantage, if he still wanted that antidote finished ASAP, if he saw what happened with the headphones as a _bad_ thing, you would have been out of here by day 3.

But nope. He had to see what happened as _profitable_ . He had to realize that Flug’s feelings for you, and, by extension, _you_ , were useful to him.

And now you’ve been stuck in this mansion for two weeks with no means of escape in sight.

Not even Damon could bust you out of here. He came here early on with the intent of doing just that, but Black Hat managed to scare him off...or, more accurately, bribe him with a flying pitchfork. And if _he_ couldn’t change your situation, there’s no way any of your human friends could. Not in the face of such a menacing villain.

So here you are now, an unofficial “employee” of Black Hat Organization. Your job is simple: act pleasantly surprised whenever Flug gives you a new present. Make it seem like it was something you really wanted, and not just something Black Hat _said_ you wanted so he could get a new product to sell. He’s the puppeteer of a lovesick marionette, and you’re stuck as the strings.

Of course, it _could_ be a lot worse. You’re well aware of that. Black Hat could have just as easily held you hostage and threatened to hurt you if Dr. Flug didn’t finish a new gadget on time. You’re lucky he thought of this idea first.

And besides, you do get a bunch of cool stuff from this. Black Hat specifically instructed you to play with your gifts occasionally, to add to the illusion that you really wanted them. So at least you get to touch some of the technology.

But even _that_ gets frustrating. What is someone like you supposed to do with an army of the undead machine, anyway? What could you possibly want out of raising the dead? Where would you even find any dead to raise?

“Hey, Demencia,” you say as she walks in, “do you have any dead things I could revive?”

“Nope, sorry!” She shrugs. “Black Hat likes to keep it clean around here. But if you want, I could go to my old house and dig up a lizard! Well...what’s left of one.”

Somehow, the idea doesn’t really appeal to you. “That’s okay.”

You duck into the guest room, now your bedroom, and put the thing in the dresser drawer with the rest of your presents. If Flug asks, you’ll have to say Black Hat misheard you. You actually wanted a... _bread_ raiser.

But given the pattern so far, he’d probably apologize and get to work on yet another present, and you really don’t want to make him do that. So you should take something else to play with, just in case. Let’s see...neutralizer...smoke bomb...ah, here we go!

You take out the combination heat and freeze ray, which has a surprising number of non-villainous uses. Most recently, you’ve been trying to use the heat function to cook, which is easier said than done. But hey, you have to use what you were given somehow.

When you head back into the hallway, Demencia’s still standing there, guitar case strapped to her back.

“Did you need something?” you ask.

“Weeell, now that you’re here, I was hoping you’d come watch me practice!”

“Um...alright.” She’s never asked you _that_ before.Granted, she’s never had a _problem_ with you listening to her play, but still...this is odd. “Let me just get my headphones.”

You head into your room again to grab your new headphones, which, as you recently discovered, also make good earplugs.

“Okay,” you say as you come back out. “I’m ready.”

“Great!”

Now with two of your presents on you, you start walking with Demencia to the lab, which happens to be her favorite place to practice. Both because of the acoustics, she’s explained, and because it has the most stuff to break.

Once you get there, she turns the hatch and nudges the door open, turning to you with a finger to her lips as she carefully steps over the divide. You’re not sure why she wants to be sneaky about it, but you nod anyway, deciding it’s best not to question.

You follow her in, gently clicking the door closed behind you, and the first thing you see is a messy little stage covered in wires and traffic cones. Two large speakers-- no, one large speaker and a smaller speaker on top of a washing machine-- stand on either side. How she managed to set this up so quickly, you have no idea.

The two of you tiptoe over to Flug, currently standing at the...hey, it’s that capsule thing you keep staring at. The one with the pipes and the doohickeys!

Demencia nudges you in the side. “Watch this.”

Flug types on the computer in front of the capsule thing, stopping to glance at a blueprint lying between two...light bulbs, are they? Once he’s got the last few keystrokes in, he slams the big red button. The two halves of the capsule part to reveal...a stone statue.

Of a person, to be specific. There’s something familiar about that person’s features: the way their face looks and their overall build. Now that you think of it, it kind of reminds of...yourself.

Hey, wait a second.

“Wha’cha got there, Flug?”

“AAAAH!” Flug spins around, stretching his arms out in front of the statue. “You really need to learn to…” He glances at you. “...knock...first.”

You offer a good-natured smile. “Hello.”

Demencia bursts out laughing.

“Demencia!” he says. “It’s not _that_ funny!”

“You’re right, you’re right,” she says, still cackling. “______, you should have seen the one where you were holding hands!”

“HEY!”

“You were all smiling, and gazing lovingly at each other…”

“ _STOP IT!_ ”

“...and he had these flowers behind his back…”

“ _DEMENCIA!_ ”

“Okay, Demencia, that’s enough,” you say. “I get the picture.”

“Alright!” She lets out one last chuckle.

“ _Finally._ ” He turns to you. “Don’t listen to her, ______. We didn’t really...I-I mean, the statue was...it wasn’t _that_ loving; I…” He looks down at the heat/freeze ray. “Hey, can I borrow that?”

“Sure.” You hand it to him.

“Thanks.” He switches it to the lowest freeze setting and points it right under his paper bag. “Ah...that’s better.”

As he hands it back to you, you can’t help but stare up at your likeness. It’s not a bad one; not only do you recognize yourself, it actually looks...flattering. “So,” you say, “what do you want with a statue of me, anyway?”

“Well, uh, actually…” He glances at the floor. “...I was going to give it to you.”

Another present. Oh, boy.  “Did Black Hat tell you I wanted one?”

“No,” he says. “Not this time.”

Makes sense. You were wondering why the world’s villains would want life size statues of you.

“But...now that you mention it...I’ve been meaning to--”

_STRUMMMM!_

Sheesh, Demencia! At least give some sort of warning before you make the whole room shake!

You slip your headphones on, hoping your ears didn’t suffer too much damage from that first chord. Already, the place looks messier; at least one test tube has shattered into pieces.

“LET’S GO OUTSIDE!” Flug shouts, gloved hands pressed onto the sides of his bag. “I WANT TO TALK TO YOU!”

\------

Normally, whenever Dr. Flug wants to have a private moment with you, you decline. You still want to do whatever you can to prevent him from falling too hard, so the less you talk to him, the better. Even when he gives you another new contraption, you usually just smile, thank him, and leave.

But not this time. No, this time is different. He said he’s been meaning to talk to you right after you mentioned Black Hat, which could very well mean…

...he’s FINALLY getting suspicious.

Oh, this is great. This is really great. You haven’t been able to tell him on your own that Black Hat is taking advantage of him, because there’s always that chance that Black Hat himself is in the room, watching you. And he’s made it clear he does _not_ want you ruining his plan.

But if _Flug_  realizes what’s going on? That’s different. If he’s doubtful enough, not even Black Hat will be able to stop him. He’ll know he’s being used, and, with any luck, he won’t stand for it any longer. He’ll stop making all that stuff for you, finish that antidote, and _get you out of here_.

“Okay, Dr. Flug,” you say as you take a seat on a living room couch, “what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

He sits across from you. “Well, ______, it’s about...your presents.”

Yes?

“Don’t get me wrong; I like making them for you! It’s just…”

_Yes?_

“...it’s always the boss who tells me what you want.”

_YES?!_

“I’ve never heard it from _you_. Not even once.”

“ _Yeah!_ ” You nod vigorously. “And I sure have been _wanting a lot of stuff_ lately, haven’t I?”

“That's what I wanted to talk to you about.” He sighs. “Please don’t feel bad about it, _____.”

Well...you _suppose_ you feel a little bad about letting it happen, but why is that the first thing he--?

“I know you think you’re being a burden, but…”

Wait, _what_?

“...you’re not. I promise! So...I guess what I’m trying to say is...it’s okay if you...want to ask me for something.”

...Oh.

He hasn’t caught on yet, has he?


End file.
